#but i think he has some beagle in him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kaiyunsim · 3 months ago

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paw paradise —

pairing : idol!jake x daycare worker!reader

summary : jake's dog, layla, has been attending a doggy daycare and has taken a liking to you… and maybe the owner too.

a/n : i love jake. i love golden retriever energy.

— wc : 1.1k — not proof read —

jake sim has always been a morning person. the soft light spilling through his curtains, the chirping of birds outside his window, and most importantly, the enthusiastic barking of his golden retriever, layla, are enough to pull him out of bed with a smile. layla is practically vibrating with energy as jake clips on her leash.

“ready for daycare, girl?” he asks, scratching behind her ears. layla responds with a happy bark, tail wagging furiously.

every morning, jake drops layla off at a local doggy daycare while he heads to practice. it’s a cozy little place tucked between a coffee shop and a florist, with colorful murals of dogs painted on the outside walls. it’s called "paw paradise," and it’s as much of a haven for jake as it is for layla.

you work there, and you’ve seen layla plenty of times. she’s impossible to miss, bounding in with her golden coat practically glowing, a stark contrast to the sleepy-eyed boy holding her leash. you’ve always thought jake was cute in an approachable, golden-retriever-boy kind of way, but you’ve never had the chance to really talk to him. he’s usually in and out within minutes, his mornings rushed and busy.

one morning, you’re at the front desk, checking in dogs and chatting with their owners, when jake walks in. his smile is soft but genuine as he approaches, layla’s leash wrapped securely around his hand.

“hey,” he says, sliding the daycare’s sign-in clipboard toward himself. “how’s it going?”

“it’s good,” you reply, trying not to sound too nervous. “how about you?”

“can’t complain. layla’s been up since six, so she’s ready to burn off some energy.”

as if to prove his point, layla wags her tail so hard that her whole body shakes. you laugh, crouching down to give her a few pats. “she’s such a sweetheart.”

jake’s grin widens. “she likes you. that’s rare; she’s usually all about the dogs.”

it’s a small comment, but it sticks with you. there’s something about the way he says it, casual but warm, that makes your chest flutter.

after jake leaves, you’re busy with the usual daycare chaos—feeding schedules, playtime rotations, cleaning up after the more “exuberant” dogs. but layla’s easy. she gets along with everyone, her gentle nature making her a favorite among the other pups. you find yourself sneaking her extra belly rubs during breaks, thinking about her equally charming owner.

the days pass in a blur of wagging tails and barking dogs. jake becomes a familiar face, always polite and friendly, but never lingering too long. you start noticing little things about him: the way he always thanks you before leaving, the way he scratches layla’s ears like she’s the center of his world. it’s endearing, but you keep your distance. after all, he’s just another client.

one weekend, the daycare hosts a small "pup playdate" event for clients and their dogs. it’s meant to be a casual gathering with snacks, games, and plenty of room for the dogs to play. you’re busy setting up when jake arrives, layla trotting happily beside him.

“hey,” he says, balancing a tray of cupcakes. “i brought these. figured the humans might want snacks, too.”

“nice touch,” you reply, smiling. “you didn’t have to, though.”

“well, layla insisted,” he jokes. “and by insisted, i mean she stared at me while i baked.”

throughout the event, you notice how easily jake fits in. he chats with other dog owners, laughing as layla plays tug-of-war with a beagle while she is twice her size. at one point, he joins you by the snack table, where you’re refilling bowls of treats.

“this is really nice,” he says. “you guys put a lot of effort into it.”

“thanks,” you reply, brushing a stray strand of hair out of your face. “it’s fun seeing all the dogs together.”

“you’re good at this,” he adds, his voice warm. “the dogs love you. layla especially.”

his words catch you off guard, but before you can respond, a chorus of barking erupts as the dogs chase after a stray ball. jake laughs and jogs over to join the chaos, leaving you feeling oddly flustered.

a few days later, jake surprises you again. this time, it’s a rainy morning, and he’s soaked from head to toe when he walks in. “i forgot my umbrella,” he explains, shaking water off his jacket. “but layla needed her playtime.”

you grab him a towel, trying not to laugh. “here, dry off before you catch a cold.”

as you softly dry his hair, you notice how his usually neat appearance is a little disheveled. it’s strangely endearing, and you can’t help but offer him a cup of tea from the staff kitchen.

“you don’t have to,” he says, but you wave him off.

“consider it a thank-you for all those coffees you’ve brought me.”

the two of you sit by the window, watching the rain as layla happily plays in the indoor area. the conversation flows easily, moving from lighthearted topics to deeper ones. jake tells you about how he adopted layla during a tough time in his life, how she’s been his constant source of joy. you share stories about your journey to working at the daycare, your dreams of opening your own place someday.

these little moments start to add up. jake’s visits become a highlight of your day, and you find yourself looking forward to seeing him more than you’d like to admit. but it’s still just friendly… at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

one evening, as you’re locking up the daycare, jake’s car pulls into the parking lot. layla’s head pops out the window, barking happily when she sees you.

“hey,” jake says, stepping out of the car. “i know it’s late, but we were just at the park and thought we’d swing by.”

“lucky me,” you say, grinning. “what’s up?”

jake rubs the back of his neck, looking unusually neevous. “actually, i wanted to ask you something.”

“oh?”

he takes a deep breath. “i was wondering if you’d like to go out sometime. like, just us. no dogs.”

your heart skips a beat. “i’d like that,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady.

jake’s face breaks into the brightest smile you’ve ever seen. “great. how about this weekend?”

“it’s a date,” you reply, and layla barks as if in agreement. “c’mon in, i’ll give you a ride home”

“if you insist” you couldn’t hold back a smile.

you’ve always believed in the magic of dogs, but you never one to lead you to someone like jake.

turns out, paw paradise really is paradise after all.

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ohnoitstbskyen · 4 months ago

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In your one piece shorts you were saying that zoro is the vice captain of the crew, but what about nami? She seems to be giving orders to the straw hats quite frequently and probably even more frequently than luffy. (I'm currently in the water 7 arc so if there's something that happenes in later arcs that supports your claim please let me know)

So, firstly, there are no ranks on the Straw Hat crew - Luffy is captain, but his crew regularly overrules him when they don't like his ideas or orders, or flat out ignore him.

But if there WERE ranks, Zoro would be vice-captain and/or first mate. This is most obviously on display at times like at Water 7 where he's the one who has to insist to Luffy that he must enact some kind of discipline with Usopp as the figurehead leader of the crew, and Zoro is usually the one who steps in as Luffy's second. The "nothing happened" moment with Kuma is a good example of this - Zoro there is taking on the duty that Luffy himself would otherwise have insisted on.

Nami is the navigator, which means she's the one who makes the call about where the ship is going and what routes to take. Jinbe is the helmsman, so he's the one steering and directing the ship on a moment-to-moment basis. Usopp is the cannoneer, sniper and scout, Chopper is the doctor, Brook is the musician, and Sanji is the cook and shares quartermaster duties with Nami (who handles the money), while Franky is the shipwright, and Robin.......... is also there.

I kid, I kid, Robin is the archeologist, historian and researcher, which is not a role we usually think of as being important on a ship, but for a voyage of adventure and discovery? Actually a crucial role, and well founded in history. She's the Charles Darwin of this particular Beagle, as it were.

Zoro has no clear role in the Straw Hat crew, however, except "swordsman," unless you pay attention to the social role he plays with the crew, and it becomes clear that he is... not so much the "second-in-command," but the guy who most stringently holds Luffy to account, and who steps in to take on burdens that Luffy can't. He and Luffy's pledge with one another is to pursue their dreams and ideals without compromise, and Zoro is the one holding Luffy to that pledge.

#tb answers #fightarrow #one piece #monkey d luffy #roronoa zoro #vinsmoke sanji #nico robin #cyborg franky #cat burglar nami #tony tony chopper #straw hat pirates #first son of the sea jinbe

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ninzied · 9 months ago

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mess of you, mess of me

another roommates au. inspired by this instagram vid. ficlet.

Some days, Henry thinks, there’s no worse fate than having fallen hopelessly, madly, one-sidedly in love with his own best friend. To say nothing of also being his flatmate and thus privy to every last detail of his busy dating life, yes Henry is well-aware that none of this is exactly ideal.

But then there are days when he thinks it’s not so bad, really. Today, for example, marks yet another Friday in which Alex has opted not to go out, for reasons that are unclear to Henry but that he will choose not to question for now.

For now, they’ve got a movie on, a pizza box and a beagle snoozing contentedly between them. Henry’s face feels sore from laughing, and Alex has had to rewind several times because he keeps getting distracted talking to Henry.

It is, in short, a perfect night, Henry thinks while Alex gabs and gabs away. He’s talking with his hands, wide, animated movements that nearly knock their drinks onto the rug more than once. There’s a crumb clinging to his lower lip, and Henry notes with uncommon fondness that there’s pizza sauce on his face too, somehow. Henry should probably tell him. His mouth’s still full of cheesy bread, so he gestures at Alex and then points at his own face to let him know there’s something there.

Alex is still talking, but he glances at Henry and doesn’t even hesitate as he leans forward. He lays a soft smack of a kiss right onto Henry’s cheek, just as he must think Henry's instructed. He hardly pauses for so much as a breath before he resumes talking again.

“Whoa,” Alex is saying, “your skin is so soft. What do you put on there, rice water?” He snaps his fingers. “Ooh, is it that thing I’ve been seeing on TikTok? No, wait, that was breast milk. Did you watch that one, do you know what I’m talking about? Henry?”

He seems to finally take in Henry’s expression, which Henry imagines must be frozen in something like utter shock. Did Alex—did he really just—kiss Henry’s cheek? Because Henry had pointed there, and so Alex had followed, with no questions asked?

“Sorry,” says Alex. “Was I supposed to do something else?”

Henry swallows the rest of his bread, admirably so considering he can hardly even breathe. “I—” Stop staring at Alex’s mouth. Stop. Stop it. The crumb is still there. How is the crumb still there? “You’ve a, um—” Henry gestures toward himself again, pointing at his lip this time, before he realizes what he’s just done.

Alex’s gaze tracks Henry’s hand to his mouth. He glances back up to meet Henry’s eyes, and then he leans in again, his movements now slow and deliberate. Making his intentions clear, but also making time for Henry to pull away if he wants it.

Henry wants no such thing.

He tips his chin up. His eyes flutter closed as Alex presses his lips against Henry’s this time.

If Henry couldn’t breathe before, there’s certainly no hope for him now.

The first kiss is gentle and sweet. The second feels a bit like he’s been set on fire.

Alex pulls back after a very long moment, looking as winded as Henry feels.

“Oh,” says Alex. There’s a new rasp to his voice, and he looks inordinately pleased about something as his gaze flits back to Henry’s cheek. “Babe, you have pizza sauce on you.”

“Yes,” says Henry, too dazed to manage a proper eye-roll at him. “Yes, I’ve no idea how that could’ve happened.”

“Hmm,” says Alex. There’s only a faint trace of sauce left on his own cheek now. Then, in a sly, meaningful tone, he says, “Don’t you?”

Henry slow-blinks. “Wait a minute,” he says. “Did you know, all along? That you had sauce on your—?”

Alex just looks at him. “How do you think it got there, sweetheart?”

Oh. Oh.

And at the grin Alex gives him as he leans back in, Henry finds himself marveling that he ever could have wondered at all.

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #rwrbsource #rwrb fic #firstprince #firstprince fic #rwrb fanfic #firstprince fanfic #usernuria #iuserzoe #userveronika #chrissiewatts #usersteen #carrythesky

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guppybibi · 7 months ago

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Pets I think the TF141 would have ᯓᡣ𐭩

John Price

Seems like a classic dog man for me ToT, would always say stuff like "A dog is a man's best friend." Probably pampers & takes care of the dog more than himself, also I think he'll have a beagle or something. Uhh they're stubborn & quite hard to train but Price is always up for a challenge!

Kyle Garrick

Cat man because I said so, that kitty is going to be a spoiled brat. He has a British Longhair because hahaah..um Brits jkjk um its a breed made by Roman soldiers so yea!! Not very big on play & activity which is okay with Kyle because he enjoys the snuggles and he does more than enough physical activity at work anyways.

John MacTavish

Bird, he gets a parrot. I don't think I even have go explain this one, they're a deadly combo together. Will literally yap your ear off, BUT parrots can also be the complete opposite of loud and boisterous so imagine him with that instead. Soap yapping and his parrot just pecks his eye.

Simon Riley

Yeah he has Riley already but I think he'll have a pet fish. Goldfish or fighting fish, might even have little spars with other people if it's possible. And the fish isn't just in some tiny measly bowl, it's a whole aquarium for such a little fish. Which they deserve!!

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pampushky · 3 months ago

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and I hate the way the townspeople gather outside

Alpha! Lando Norris/Omega! Lauda! Reader - chapter 4 - 5.5k words

And we're back baby! Warnings for this chapter: uh, just lore building. Lando thinks maus is lying lol. apologies for the possibly incorrect german, I'm rather rusty on it lol, but I'm brushing back up on it lol

oh and eggroll the service hound is a queen ofc.

also in need of more beta readers. dm if interested.

don't worry it'll make sense soon...ish

previous part | next part | masterlist | series masterlist

The Previous Day, 2024. Sakhir, Bahrain.

Lando Norris watches the conveyor belt at the baggage claim, standing next to Oscar. The Australian’s arms are folded. You’re casually drinking a tall can of Red Bull as if you hadn’t gotten them into this situation, with a hands-free leash looped around you like a cross-body bag, connected to your little beagle, sitting patiently at your feet.

His eye twitches when another bit of luggage comes out that’s not his.

“Doesn’t your sire literally own a private jet company?”

“Not anymore. He sold it. Gained quite a bit of money from it.” You shrug. Offering a sip of the can to Oscar, who actually takes a hard drink from it, tipping his head back. “Besides. I fly normally most of the time. Better for the environment, no?”

“Who gives a shit about the environment?”

“I do. I actually quite like to hike.” You frown as you look at him, brow furrowing. Your beagle yawns. “So does Seb. Didn’t you flirt with him your first year?”

“I did what— no! He was like my grid dam!” Lando screeches, almost immediately trying to banish the images of Sebastian and himself in any type of relationship beside that of a rookie and a veteran driver mentorship.

“Ah.” You nod slightly, and then go back to looking at the baggage claim. Studying it. “We flew business anyway. Why are you so pissy about it?”

“We could have flown private or— or at least first class!”

“Why, though?” You tilt your head at him. Momentarily scowling at Oscar as he’s drunk all of your Red Bull— a fact only discovered when you try to take a drink for yourself. “It’s not even a long flight, just seven hours.”

“Seven hours is a long time,” Lando chuffs, folding his arms across his chest. “I need to be able to lay down!”

“Okay, next time, we’ll fly first class,” Oscar buts in, already trying to smooth things over between the two of you. You almost look offended until Oscar glares at you from the corner of his eye, which gets you to bite down on your cheek. “Lando can schedule that.”

“Fine.” Lando sniffs, watching as more luggage lands on the conveyor belt. “But we are so upgrading to first for the flight home.”

“But that’ll cost extra,” you whine, which makes the dog at your feet snort. Lando silently decides that your beagle is on his side, in this argument, even if you don’t acknowledge it.

“Compromises, Mousey,” Oscar just puts one of his hands on the top of your head, the way an older litter mate might do to quiet an argument. It’s quite funny for Lando to watch, especially with the little huff you let out, conceding. “Compromises.”

The little smirk that Lando gives you nearly makes you growl, until Oscar just pushes down on your head a bit harshly, saying something about grabbing his bag and leaving the two of you alone.

“So….” Lando starts, standing a bit awkwardly as you both watch Oscar struggle with his frankly oversized duffle bag. Your dog has now sat back down at your feet, watching the Aussie nearly fall over himself. “Mousey?”

“Oh my god,” you rub your face in frustration and prepare to clobber Oscar for revealing that to Lando. “I’m gonna kill him.”

“What is it?” Lando grins widely, suddenly finding a new way to torment you. To possibly break down the walls you have set up, all in the interest as making yourself seem like a hardass. “Like— some pet name, from your Oscie?”

“My Oscie?!” You screech, just as the Australian in question lets out a loud ‘oof’ from where he’s finally managed to lift the duffel, only for it to get caught on someone else's luggage, forcing him to walk awkwardly beside it while trying to unhook it from the other bag. Both yourself and Lando watch in partial amusement on Lando’s part and disappointment on yours. “Do you think I’m— oh, no, that actually makes sense you think I’m dating him,” You murmur, more to yourself, before looking at him stoicly, as if to clear it up. “That idiot is more like my littermate.”

“Hey! He’s not that bad, he’s quite smart.”

As if to prove him wrong, Oscar somehow stumbles over his own feet, and falls onto the conveyor belt, now moving along with all the luggage, looking somewhat surprised at his new situation.

“Okay, so he’s got some quirks,”

“Trust me, I’m aware,” you watch as Oscar just sits on the conveyor belt for a few seconds, as if relaxing, before realizing he’s tangled the strap of his duffel bag around himself. “Besides— he’s courting someone.” You follow Oscar’s movement on the conveyor belt as he further entangles himself. “And as for Mousey… it’s a stupid name the media gave me. Because my Sisi was die Ratte, so I was called die Maus.”

“Why not like— Rat two, or Rat junior?” Lando’s brow furrows. He seems genuinely confused about the nickname, instead focusing on how it didn’t seem to make sense to him. Oscar’s adventures and struggles with the luggage are completely forgotten to him, while the poor omega finally manages to free himself from the conveyor belt.

“Ich weiß nicht. The media is dumb.” You mumble. Not looking at him for fear of him calling your bluff.

But you do know the origins.

Before your identity was made public, a picture had leaked of you, when you were still healing. A rare moment when you were allowed outside of the hospital to get some sunlight, and to slowly introduce you to the new country you were now living in, Mathias and Lukas doing their best to amuse you.

The picture had been you, sitting on Niki’s lap, looking tiny and frightened by how loud Vienna was, despite sitting on a bench in a park near the hospital.

Your eyes were wide. Your little face was still bandaged, your hair shorn close to your scalp, and your hands so heavily wrapped in bandages that it made you look like you were wearing white mittens as your wounds healed. Sitting on Niki’s lap, oblivious to the paparazzi, while your sire was looking at the camera straight on, the calculating fury on his face a heavy contrast to your wide-eyed anxiety and innocence. Flinching at every noise that wasn’t something familiar, with a shy smile on your lips as you stretched a bandaged-wrapped hand towards Mathias.

How had it been leaked?

Published to the press not a day later, the front page of some gossip magazine Niki had sued into oblivion. But that was the first picture of you the public had ever seen, tucked under the headline: “Die Ratte und das Mäuschen!” The rat and the little mouse.

The article itself was just blatant gossip. Theorizing about where you’d come from, based on the fact he’d just recently flown to the United States and returned not even a month ago. Who you were to Niki to make him so protective of you— and what an unfortunate event it was that such a pretty young girl was to be branded with the same scars Niki bore.

Had Lando ever seen the picture before? Probably not. But you could never be certain. Especially not with your last name, and the weight it carried in motorsport. Not with how freely any information the media got its hands on became public knowledge.

“I agree,” Lando said tartly, snapping you out of your little dissociative state. Eggroll sitting at your feet, now aware and pressing a paw to your shin. Alerting that you were experiencing the start of a dissociative episode. Not that Lando knew that part— he probably just assumed it was a pet asking for attention. “Is your dog… asking for Red Bull?”

“She’s alerting. I had a trigger, or something,” You mumble, already going to lower yourself to the ground so she can sit in your lap to help keep you calm, her weight reassuring and familiar. “Eggroll’s my service dog.”

Before Lando can even question the fact that you have a service dog, and further, the fact that they dog's name is Eggroll, Oscar finally lets out a yelp for assistance, now pulling your bag and Lando’s from the claim, looking like he’s going to get pulled onto the little conveyor belt again by his bag.

The older driver rushes over, forgetting about Eggroll and your mystery disability that required you to have her, helping Oscar pull the two remaining bags off the track. And by the time they’re both heading back towards you, you’re standing up again, and Eggroll is alert by your side, and Lando’s already forgotten about the little talk you’d both had.

Two Days Later, 2024. Sakhir, Bahrain.

It’s the second day of pre-season testing. Everything is terrible. You’d always hated testing out your ideas and putting a driver in the seat. A chance to have all of your carefully laid calculations and strategies, brought to you by countless other mechanics and engineers, and then having to make the hard decisions on what should actually be included. Or. That’s what it was like at Williams. No one would dare say it to your face— but they underestimated you. You were, firstly, the child of a wealthy and famous Formula One legend. Secondly, a woman. And third, your worst crime, an incredibly well-educated and blunt omega who would never back down when you knew you were right about something.

The Williams team who worked with you always seemed to regard you with thinly veiled loathing. Jealousy. You’d applied under an assumed name, wanting to strike out on your own without your sire’s name attached to you, cutting the symbolic umbilical cord. They’d already removed the fact that gender wouldn’t be taken into account, much less your designation. When you’d shown up, with James to back you up after you’d gotten the job, and the proof to show that all of the accolades under your name were your own, he had immediately sunk his teeth in. The investigation had revealed just how much he’d whispered about you to the rest of the team. The lies told about you from the very first moment you’d stepped in the garage. He had orchestrated it all as if it were part of his plan to have you as his mate, stuck in his web from the moment you’d joined Williams.

Only Alex had been truly welcoming. Understanding the struggles of your stepping up and the jump into Formula One after finishing your masters. And Nick… he’d been nice enough. A bit awkward. But that was alright. You’d both commiserate over being considered “outsiders” to the Europeans, occasionally joining Lance at separate events when the isolation grew to be too much.

But you were at least partially European. A dual citizen in the United States and Austria. And your name helped to at least cover more of the disappointment in your parentage, or what the public knew about.

You were a Lauda. Plain and simple.

The last name Lauda originated in the Latin language. Likely from the word Lauds. The Morning Office. The first prayers of the day in the old, old ways of the Catholic Church. A Lauda was someone who sang the praises of a god you’re not quite certain you or your sire even believed in anymore.

You’d seen the way his hands twisted when he’d prayed after one-to-many accidents. How his head bowed lower with each life or career-ending injury of some promising motorsport legend. The way he had cursed and screamed and raged after Jules Bianchi had died. You were almost 15. The funeral had been quiet.

All you remembered was how broken the F3 driver had looked as he touched the coffin before it was pushed into the vault.

Lauda became a name that people sang praises about. Raising your beloved Sisi on their shoulders and holding their hands together, clasped in worship when they saw him in the holy red and prancing black horse on a golden background. And you. The little Lauda, the new light of the family. They stared at you and whispered as if you already had a halo about your little head, shining bright enough to hide the mottled scars on your jawline and neck, your wide eyes more reminiscent of a little mouse than the slick, calculating rat your Sisi was.

The drivers cried for his guidance there. Micheal would lean and talk with him in hushed tones, with you balanced precariously between the two of them. There’d been a picture of you looking up at the two of them from where you sat between them, as if you could understand what they were discussing. Already trying to figure out a solution to the worries that creased your Sire’s brow, and to make your uncle smile. It’d made its rounds on social media when Williams announced you were going to be a Race Engineer starting in 2021. Now with your halo photoshopped in.

To extol. Everyone wanted to see another Lauda charge forward in a car, backed by a legendary team. McLaren or Ferrari, they didn’t care, the media just wanted to see you from the moment your identity became public.

That’s what everyone wanted.

But the notebooks stacked by you state a different story. An alternative ending. The true ending. The way your eyes watered from the thick contacts being in too long. But the glasses caused too much of a glare when you were out in the sun. The twitching of your hands and the lack of the compression gloves that’s stopped them from aching.

You would not be charging forward with a team in a car. But you could atleast guide them.

That’s what you liked more, anyway. It was what you could do.

What you wanted to do.

A mechanic drops a wrench behind you, snapping you from your daze. Lando talking over the radio as you sit along the pitlane wall.

You haven’t spoken once. Just watching and listening carefully as Will walks Lando through a practice run to get an idea of what McLaren ran like. The Alpha smiles at you warmly, lifting up one side of the headphones. You follow suit, intent on listening to whatever advice he may give. Even if you plan on turning everything on its head.

“Lando does quite well with positive reinforcement! It’s really been able to drive him to success in the past,” Will explains, his voice soft and his eyes kind even as he glances at the screens with all of their data. “Would you like to try? There’s no time like the present—“

“I’d rather not,” you murmur, looking back at the screens. He was doing alright. But not what you expected out of the current car. Not with what all the calculations and simulations had been saying. Positive reinforcement or not, the results were lackluster at best, and you weren’t about to reward him for pretty much just taking the car out for a joyride when he was supposed to be getting you data to work with and to use for strategies. “I thank you for the advice. But his data is not looking good.”

“What does she mean it’s not looking good?” Lando’s voice crackles through the headsets. “That was my best lap yet!”

“I mean it’s not looking good.” Your words are blunt as ever. Will’s face seems to drop at your… rather indelicate speech. “You’re not following the race line, and you’re taking the corners much too fast. You’re just playing around with the car, honestly.”

“Better than losing speed.”

“Tell the mechanics that when you crash. You’re driving the car like it’s the shitbox you had from five years ago.”

Will visibility winces at that comment, and Zak just raises an eyebrow as he listens in on your conversation. Andrea laughs. Then you can hear the huff Lando lets out, actively taking another corner and nearly clipping the front wing on the railing. You hear a few yelps from the mechanics behind you for the close call.

“Rude.”

“It’s the truth. You’re understeering like crazy right now due to how fast you’re taking the corners. I’m literally looking at the data to prove it.” You close your notebook, the final page filled with ink scrawls of notes you’d taken. No more notes. Only bluntness. “Do you want to be a champion? Or are you content to be Lando Nowins?”

“You’re a fucking dickhead, you know that?” Lando starts to take the corners even faster as if to spite you. But he’s following the set path much closer now. Your brow furrows. “Just let me fucking drive!”

“Stop taking the corners fast. You will make your own calls when you have at least four wins to your name.” You snap back, adjusting the mic to be a bit closer. “A single win can be a fluke. Match your number and we will talk.”

“Just let me fucking drive!” Lando roars, the radio crackling from how loud he shouts. Another near miss with the railing seems to scare him straight, responding curtly to you as you start to give him guidance. And you just smirk, folding your hands in front of you as you watch the data start to turn upwards, Will beside you, looking shocked as you seemingly force Lando’s hand into doing better.

“He gets positive reinforcement for doing well. Not for throwing tantrums.” You say to him, muting yourself so that Lando won’t hear the little comment. Still facing forward. Will’s face flushes slightly, and Zak just leans in a bit closer, looking at the notebook you’d written in.

“He’s not a dog for you to train,” Will mutters. “Not like that American you worked with.”

“Watch it,” your voice is cold, and your eyes narrowed to slits as you look at him. It’s bad enough that you’re already tired, and that your eyes hurt from the contacts. But having someone drag Logan’s name through the mud when he wasn’t there to defend himself nearly makes you snap, pulling your teeth back over your lips, your scarred skin making your mouth almost seem lopsided, with the way it creases under the heavy makeup you used to even out the bumps, not looking quite right to those who are too close to you. “I have my ways. You have yours. But I am the one with the job now.”

You just focus back on the screen above you, calmly giving directions to Lando, who complies with sullen responses. When he gets out of the car, you notice Will leaning down to whisper something to him. But you don't care.

You have your ways. He has his. But you will not feed yet another ego.

The debrief after the second practice session is full of tension. Thick enough that Lando nearly gags when he enters the room. Something that makes Lando’s blood boil a little, especially with how you’re sitting just relaxed, arms a bit folded, leaning back in the office chair as you look at the slide deck of all the data that’s still being edited by the strategists. You’re across from him, while Will is next to Lando. Oscar is next to you, and on his other side is his own race engineer. You should be sitting next to Lando. Will should be a bit further down, with his new position.

Yet there you are, sitting beside Oscar and laughing as the two of you speak.

That idiot is more like my littermate.

Your words ring oddly in his ears. Were you just trying to throw him off? The two of you have your foreheads pressed together, whispering and discussing something like it was just the two of you in that room. Oscar smells so undeniably happy, with his eyes shining, and a little smile on his lips to reveal his bunny teeth.

You seem so satisfied. Pointing out the positive turn in data when you had held Lando’s feet to the fire. Doing the opposite of what Will had recommended. Zak just listens silently while Andrea stands at the front of the room next to Randeep, the head of strategy. The praise makes you give a small smile— Lando’s not even sure he can call it that. The corners of your mouth tip up, just a tiny bit, almost imperceptibly— and you continue to pay attention as Andrea signals for everything to move on. Oscar seems to preen at your being praised, and that all-but-seals the deal for Lando, realizing you’d probably lied about not courting him, for whatever reason.

But Will raises his hand.

“Uh— I actually have a few concerns,” The blond alpha is polite, but there’s clear agitation in his words. You stiffen a little, but ultimately tilt your head to the side, questioning. “Mainly about how Lando’s new engineer seemed to ignore my advice,”

“....Elaborate,” Andrea motions for Will to keep speaking, though he seems agitated, a prickle of annoyance scenting the air. “Please try to keep this unbiased, Will, and also remember that each race engineer does things differently.”

“Right. I’ll just get right into it. I don’t like the way Ms. Lauda talks to Lando,” Will stands, clapping his hands together, and looking directly at you. You, in response, raise both your eyebrows and meet his gaze head-on. Cold. Calculating. The way you’re addressed almost feels too formal. Like you’re not really welcome at McLaren yet, as he refuses to use your first name.

It’s not lost on you. And it certainly isn’t lost on Lando, who suddenly realizes Will is trying to make a statement of some kind, as the other alpha smiles at him, like Lando’s his littermate, that they’re closer than they’ve really ever been.

“Lando, in previous years, has done great with positive reinforcement, even with how often his race engineer changes—”

“He’s also never gone further than the top five in driver’s ranking, nor won a race yet.” You respond cooly. Under the table, you’re picking at your nails. The claws on your left hand extend to pick at the back of the compression glove you’re wearing, custom-made to match your skin tone and to hide the burn scars that mar your right hand. Being careful not to break the fabric. Practiced. A perfected nervous tick that had only worsened since he had been sentenced. Perhaps you should take your anxiety medication earlier, rather than at night.

Will ignores your response, though he does pause a bit, biting the inside of his cheek. “Yes, that may be so, but we’re here to uplift him, and help him go further than before. Admittedly, the car hasn’t been the best in the past few years, but that’s changing. I’m speaking as his race engineer here—”

“Former race engineer,” You remind him, looking at Will, who looks to Lando again, as if ask for him to jump to his defense. ��You’re not his race engineer anymore.”

All Lando wants to do is curl up in a ball because he really, really doesn’t want to get into the political power struggle between his current and former race engineer right now, even if you’ve not exactly been the most… approachable, for this first month.

He feels nauseous, caught between the two of you right now. With how you’re staring him down, lips turned downward. One of your upper canines slightly snagged on your lower lip.

“Yes, but,” Will huffs through his nose, now looking straight at you. You no longer look as calm as when the conversation— confrontation, more accurately— started. Just staring down Will, sitting stiffly in your chair. Maybe trying to intimidate him, using the legendary Lauda death stare. Perhaps it’s working— Will isn’t even trying to talk to you directly anymore, looking straight at Andrea and Zak. “Be reasonable, the way she spoke to Lando is unacceptable, I mean, Lando can’t help that he hasn’t won yet— but to outright taunt him as she did, it makes me wonder why she actually left Williams!”

No one’s quite sure when he’d started to growl. Or when his scent had turned so bitter with frustration and outright disgust as he spoke.

But the fact is, Will used his voice. The edges of his irises had flashed red, showing his designation, and showed exactly what he was doing, even if he wasn’t aware he was doing it.

The aggression from him is shocking. Completely unlike him, in all honesty. But everything is frozen by the loud, panicked baying of your dog, now pressing itself into your lap, her nose against your face and licking your cheeks. Your eyes focus on the table in front of you, while Oscar grabs you by the shoulders, turning your chair to look at him. You let out a low, defensive hiss, and Lando can see the way you bare your teeth at him.

An odd ripping sound fills the room, the tips of your fingers extending and stretching until Lando realizes you’re wearing a glove on your right hand, and that your claws had ripped through the fingertips of it as Oscar now holds to your wrists to stop you from clawing at him. The edge of a scent-blocking patch is just visible on your wrist, where the glove had partially stretched and ripped because of the extention of your claws.

And your dog keeps baying. Ear-splitting and urgent, as you wrestle yourself from Oscar’s grip, before directly baring your teeth at Will. Sharp canines under your pulled-back lips, one side almost looking a bit… droopy, as if your skin couldn’t tighten the way it normally would.

That snaps Will out of his daze, and he pales, starting to stutter out a response. “I—I didn’t mean—”

You barely manage to make it from the room, a flash of white near the door, in what Lando can only assume is your canine form, Eggroll still hot on your heels, baying and howling as she chases you. Oscar sprints after, pushing past Zak, who tries to hold you there. You’re gone— god knows where— along with the younger driver and your beagle.

“Mr. Joseph. A word.” Andrea hisses, and motions to the door quickly, the team principal's face set in a rare display of utter fury.

Lando has no idea what to do. Because this goes against everything he’s been taught and everything he believes in, Alpha or not. No matter how angry you got, no matter how aggravating someone might be— you never, ever let it get to that point. Not like Will had just done. Using his Alpha voice and almost certainly setting off some episode that your service dog was trained for.

Truthfully, Lando had never seen someone use their Alpha voice. Yes, he had it. All the other Alphas he knew had it. But he’d never seen it actually used on someone. Sure, he’d seen people speak with it, but that was when he was in school, in health classes, learning to control it so he wouldn’t accidentally hurt anyone. Just like how Betas had to learn how to properly recognize scents, and how Omegas had to learn how to control their own scents, so as to not cause accidental distress to those around them. That’s just how everything was.

Zak closes the meeting with little decorum. His face is stoic, a mask that hides whatever he’s thinking. But it’s clear that not a single word of what just happened will be spoken about outside of the team and those who’d witnessed it.

“Zak,” Lando walks up to him, flinching at how the older Beta seems to stare right through him, “I didn’t— he didn’t tell me he was going to do that. He only said he didn’t like how Mouse did things,”

“Mouse?” Zak says in confusion. “Do you mean— never mind, but— we’ll— we’ll get this figured out, Lando. Just.... take the night."

The way he says it doesn’t fully convince him, though. Even as he trudges to the nesting rooms, following the faint trail of the heavenly scent from last night. Room 12 is open this time. And Lando is a creature of petty desires. So the moment his body hits the pre-built nest in the little room, he closes his eyes and hopes the third and final day of testing while somehow be less of a shitshow than today.

You need to use your canine form more. The click of your claws on the floor is a dead giveaway that it was a bit... neglected.

You’re panting, trying to find a small place to tuck yourself to hide, like your instincts are telling you to do. Following your instincts is good. Great, even. But you can hear Oscar and Eggroll’s steps behind you, almost upon you.

The wind is knocked from you, and you tumble forward as a human, with Oscar in his canine form on top of you. Eggroll trots up to your face, lets out an angry bay, before sitting down and licking your face to help ground you. It takes nearly a minute before Oscar trusts that you’re not going to try and run, and turns human himself, gently lifting both yourself and Eggroll, while you try (and fail) to tuck yourself into a ball, still thinking you're being chased.

Eggroll, seemingly all-knowing, bays again. Shoves her nose against yours. And then leaves a slobbery lick up your face, forcibly grounding you as you glare at the little beagle.

“Okay. Let’s talk.” Oscar hums, taking you to the nesting rooms, haphazardly choosing one that won’t look too odd to be closed. He helps you through the paces, wiping off the remaining adhesive for your scent-blocking patches. Letting you hide slightly under him, Eggroll grumpily pushing her paws into your side. “What was that?”

"What was what?"

"That," Oscar moves his arms as if to gesture to the entire debrief. "What else could I be talking about, Mouse?!"

“I don’t know. He started getting so angry,” You mumble. And you’re genuinely confused— nothing like that, even at Williams, had happened before. There were usually warning signs, if it was something with your scent. It was hard for you to regulate it, with how damaged your scent glands were. But you could, and that’s what your scent blockers were for.

An omega’s scent could cause those around them to feel whatever the omega felt if they so wished it. It was a defense tactic that had evolved back from the early days of humanity. To control one's scent was to control the pack, and it often became a task for any prime omega to keep the pack calm, able to make sure level-heads prevailed in any circumstance. Just as the prime Beta and Alpha served their purpose, the prime Omega had their own duties to uphold.

You’d never been able to control your scent. Even when you presented, with Marlene to guide you through your Omega schooling, the majority of your scent glands, were too damaged. Quite honestly, you were unable to scent anything. If you tried too hard, the damaged glands would start to ache, and the few untouched ones would blister from having to overproduce the scenting hormones.

“Do you think your scent…?” Oscar trails off as you go silent.

“Shouldn’t have. My scent blockers are prescribed.” You mumble, squeezing Eggroll a little bit tighter. “They’re meant to make it so I don’t have to try and regulate my scent.”

As if to show your friend, your pack mate, you tremble, squeezing your eyes shut to try and regulate it as you’d learned to from Marlene. The scarred part of your neck aches with the effort it takes for you to control it. The gland on the other side of your neck manages to splutter out a weak stream of your scent before it starts to sting. Trying to make Oscar feel calm. Oscar just frowns, and then lightly pushes you to break your concentration so you don’t continue to try and regulate your scent, obviously not affected.

“Point taken.” He looks at the mostly undamaged part of your neck, checking it carefully. “Jesus. That’s gonna blister.”

Eggroll huffs, and digs her front paws into your chest. Her mournful brown eyes look up at you in seeming judgement for pushing yourself. “They always do.” You gently scratch the dog’s head. “She did her panic alert. Not the scent alert.” You look back down at her.

“So maybe you set him off?”

“Maybe,” you shrug it off. “He probably got scared of my face, right?” You feel the uneven texture of the scar on your jaw, the makeup you’d been wearing to even everything out now sitting on a soaked cloth in the corner of the room. The media knew you had scars. Fuck, everyone did. But your strict skincare and makeup routine ensured that many didn’t know just how bad they were.

“You have makeup on, though.”

“But it doesn’t always hide the… droopyness.” You frown. Feeling how one side of your mouth moves less than the other. “Be honest, does it look like I'm having a stroke? Like a chronic one, or some shit?”

“No, you're just dramatic. ” Oscar puts his chin on top of your head, huffing. “The new treatments have been helping.”

The huff you make isn’t as convincing as he’d like it to be. But you’re too tired to try and argue with him anymore as you let yourself try to relax and focus on the next and final day of testing tomorrow.

tags: @charlesgirl16 @boo8008 @the-holy-trinity-l @laura-naruto-fan1998 @amalialeclerc @vellicora @st0rmzi3 @poppyflower-22 @hiireadstuff @seonghwaexile @mrsmelinda @actuallyazriel @noam-rosier-icr

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x you #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 x reader

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pastaxandria · 24 days ago

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The Red Thread: Chapter 163

The Library of Pastaxandria has recorded for its archives: Chapter 163 of The Red Thread.

Ship: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Chapter Summary:

"The person I'm tracking… It has to do with Project Beagle." You grimaced as Matt abruptly straightened next to you, his inhale sharp and startled. "I'm looking for the brother of my old handler. Anthony, from the journals. He might be hiding in Queens, according to S.H.I.E.L.D.. His brother's lived there for decades, and they think he's stashed Anthony somewhere. If I can find the brother… I find Anthony." Silence hung heavy in the air, thick and heavy as a shroud. Then Matt blew out a slow breath, letting go of you so he could scrub his hands down his face. "Shit," he said softly.

Wordcount: 7.6k

Warnings for this chapter: for once this chapter is ENTIRELY SAFE, I even added some extra cuddles for all of you, and there is a WONDERFUL CAMEO I have been waiting to get to at this point in my outline, so go forth!

Read me on AO3 where Matt's suddenly realizing there might be too many things going on for him to handle all of it

#the red thread #matt murdock x f!reader #daredevil x f!reader #matt murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #daredevil #matt murdock #fanfic #fic #reader #reader insert #x reader #in which people continue to find metaphors for matt murdock #elektra is playing a subtle game #and matt is happy to have you there with him #also there's a surprise cameo i've been just WAITING to get to so that makes me happy

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baronessvonglitter · 3 months ago

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Law of Attraction ~ Chapter 7

Rom Com AU divorce lawyer!Dave York x fem!Reader (featuring private investigator!Tim Rockford)

Word count: 6,209

Summary: A friendship reaches a new level, Dave gets the truth about Carol, and a misunderstanding brings two people closer than they've ever been..

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit for smut. Fluff. One adorable dog. Mentions of food/eating, alcohol/drinking. Fingering. Oral (f&m receiving). Infidelity (but a certain someone was unfaithful first so.. Uno reverse?) More marital strife (sorry). Porn-shaming. A lovers' misunderstanding. Angst. Unprotected piv. (please lmk if I've missed anything)

Author’s note: This is where they finally hook up. Wave. Of. Relief. Also, the whole Tim scene was really just me thinking about that old show Cheaters. It really scarred me for future relationships lol.

Series Masterlist

Common sense tells you to stay away from Dave while the investigation is going on. He's vulnerable now, and as your attraction grows stronger with each passing day, you know it'll soon be impossible to hold back from the natural predilection for being close with him.

In short, you're not so sure you can keep your hands to yourself when you're around him.

On a sunny weekend you meet at a pet adoption agency and, true to your word, you choose a dog together, a beagle named Maple, and the first time you bring her home, Dave stays for almost the rest of the day, helping set up what she needs and playing with her. There's a light in his eyes as he spends time with your new pet, a gleam that you haven't seen before, and it touches your heart.

He's invited to come over anytime he wants just to spend time with her, and he happily takes you up on the offer, indulging in more late night dinners and movies. Maple's a good chaperone, much too cute to ignore, and she keeps you from lingering on the sinful thoughts you're having about each other. For the time being, anyway.

You become a great means of support to Dave, a lifeline, and in that commisseration of your wrecked marriages, you find not just solace but a profound closeness. You spend every lunch hour together, at your cafe or at his office, sharing meals and talking about your day. No subject is too mundane or too trivial to insitgate conversation about a million other things, discussions that Javier would easily get bored of, and that Carol would dismiss as silly.

In a white floral print dress that's intentionally too short and too tight to fully button up, you visit Dave on your lunch break, bringing homemade soup and sandwiches, knowing he has a busy day ahead with meetings and court dates, and wanting him to have some comfort food in the midst of it all.

Despite his feelings for you, he likes to remain above reproach. Your visits are never secret, and when you're in his office his blinds are open. Nothing inappropriate passes between you anyway. Your looks and your words are the most intimate things that you share, at least since the heated kiss not so long ago. (Even if anyone gives a second thought to your visits, most of Dave's coworkers and their spouses hate Carol and would keep mum just to spite her.)

Still, you look like the sweetest sin, and under his desk Dave has to shift to accommodate his growing hard-on, eyes feasting on the playful lift of your brow, the curve of your smiling lips, the graceful column of your neck and the bountiful billow of your breasts, practically on display. He knows it's just for him. Spending so much time, you don't have room for any other guy.

"Are you listening?" you giggle, your bubbling laughter doing not-so-innocent things to Dave's dick.

"Yeah. Of course I'm listening. And yes, we're still on for tonight. Carol's already said she's doing a girls' night with some of the women from the hospital."

"I can't wait," you smile. "It's so good to spend time with you and the girls. I wish.."

"Wish what?" he whispers, his hand reaching out for yours.

"It's selfish, but I wish it could always be this way. When I think about my life before you, it's a blank. I don't know how I managed to stay sane, but when I'm with you I feel.. alive. I don't want to know what it's like to not have you in my life."

Dave pulls your hand across the table, bringing it to his lips to plant a soft sweet kiss on the back. "Baby, you don't know how much that means to me. It's like I'm drowning, and then I talk to you and suddenly I have air again. You're the only thing worth staying above water for."

"I think we're saving each other from drowning," you tell him.

Dave walks you out, insisting as usual to escort you back across the street, and this time when you step into the elevator, there's a charge in the air, a new tension both of you know has always been inevitable.

The close, cramped space of the elevator, you in that dress, curves begging to be caressed, your sweet floral perfume beckoning him closer. There are no words exchanged as you share a look, communicating everything in that prolonged glance. He's thankful no one else is on, and his heart leaps right before he presses the STOP button.

You press him to the wall in a kiss full of longing, aching for his taste, for the feel of his tongue against yours. Your panties are sopping wet within seconds as his hands find their way under your dress, his large hands smoothing over your skin as your own fingers find their way under his jacket, hungering to feel his muscles and the heat of his skin under your palms. You settle for the cotton of his light blue button-up.

"We should stop," you tell him, pushing your panties to the side as his fingers slide between your warm thighs.

"Yeah, we should." He teases your folds, relishing in the sighs and tremors that go through you at his delicate touch.

"You're married," you remind him, a gasp leaving you as he pumps not one but two thick fingers inside your drenched pussy. Dave's head drops down, trying to contain himself, willing himself not to come in his pants then and there. Never felt anything so fucking wet in my life..

"A married man whose wife is fucking someone else," he says,a lawyer even when he's hot and hard for you. "I want you to come for me, baby. I need to know what you sound like, what you look like, what you taste like when you come." He pumps slow and steady, fingers scissoring to feel all of you, and imagine how well you'd take him if he could fuck you right now. "You're so fucking wet, I know you need to come, baby."

You grasp his wrist, feeling the strength behind his skillful touch as you greedily take every plunge of his fingers, crying his name in a shudder as his thumb swipes your clit.

"Keep your eyes on me, baby," he utters, giving your bottom lip a soft bite. "I want to see your eyes when you come."

Unable to speak, you nod, your high-pitched gasps and moans letting him know you're close. He crooks his fingers, too caught up in the surreality of the moment to even think about teasing you or edging you the way he fantasizes about. "That's it, isn't it?" he smiles as he takes a moment to bury his face in your neck, inhaling your scent, his fingers finding that spot deep inside that is your undoing. You're squirming under his touch now, desperate.

"It's all you, baby, come for me," he whispers, holding your chin up so your eyes meet his. And as if they're magic words, you come apart under his touch, clamping down on his fingers, earning a deep, satisfied grunt from him. Just when you think one wave is over, another starts, his fingers continuing their blessed work inside your cunt.

"Sweet girl," he murmurs as you finally push him away, overstimulated, eyes glassy in fucked out bliss, some loose strands of hair caught in your lip gloss. He removes his fingers gently, your glaze sticky on them. With his eyes on you he licks off your essence, closing his eyes briefly at the taste of you, just as he'd imagined.

After, he makes sure you're okay, cleans you up with his handkerchief from his jacket, wishing he could wear the heavenly scent of your pussy on him all day, but he'll switch it out for a new one later.

"I'm not ready to go yet," you murmur, stopping him from pressing the elevator button.

Before he realizes what's happening, you're on your knees in front of him, fingers deftly working at undoing his belt buckle. He doesn't make a move to stop you. No man in his right mind, married or not, would deny you anything. "Here, baby," he says, handing you his jacket to give you cushion for your knees. He runs his fingers through your hair, heart pounding madly in his chest as you look up at him with those irresistible eyes, releasing his cock from its confines.

Thank you Jesus, I knew it, I fucking knew it! You glory in the big fucking dick that you always knew Dave was packing down there. Your mouth pools with saliva as you give him a couple teasing strokes, marveling at the swollen shaft, curved, ringed with smaller veins and one large one running along the top. He tips his head back against the wall, breathing heavily as you give little kitten licks across the head, scooping up his trickling precum.

Carol can have this every day and she chooses not to. What the hell is wrong with her? A victorious little smirk curls the corners of your mouth as you drag your tongue along the underside, your free hand gently palming his balls, feeling their heft in your hand. Just thinking about how much he's going to unload makes your cunt clench in anticipation.

"Stop.. teasing.." he begs, looking as if he's close already. "Not fair.."

"Good point," you tell him, unable to keep back a smile. You move the shoulders of your dress down, pushing it over your breasts and bringing your bra down as well, baring your breasts to him. Practically drooling at the sight, Dave fondles one in his large palm, his thumb rubbing avariciously over your nipple, bringing it to a tight little bud.

At last you take him in your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks as you slurp the first couple of inches, adding pressure by stiffening your tongue. One hand rests on his base against his neatly trimmed pubes, the other on his thigh, hard muscle and soft hair under your palm.

Taking him in as far as your throat allows, you alternate between using your mouth and your hand, spitting on his shaft to add lubrication, watching him innocently from below as Dave loses control little by little. His hands tangle in your hair, thumbs caressing your cheeks as you gag on him, pulling away and leaving a stringy mess of saliva between your lips and his cock.

Poor Dave hasn't been blown in ages.. I'm so lucky to be the one to give him this.. You use your fist and mouth in tandem, bobbing your head as your fist works the base, keeping your eyes on him as he tries desperately to hold back.

Giving his balls a little massage, you hear him groan and feel him shiver. Keeping your mouth suctioned to his cock, he cries out in relief as he pulses and shoots his load down your throat.

By the time you reach the ground floor you both look like nothing ever happened, not even a hair out of place nor a button fastened wrong. As you part ways in front of the bakery/bookstore you exchange a small, secret smile, with the promise of more stolen moments to come.

Dave almost regrets having to go home, but Molly and Alice are the only bright spots there, and he brings them a couple of brand new Squishmallows, loving the light in their eyes as they greet him home. They don't know that you're coming over later, just in case they accidentally spill the beans to their mom. So far they think of you as a babysitter who's also their dad's friend.

After dinner, Carol's quiet, like a ghost hating the place she haunts she goes about cleaning up the table, putting things in the dishwasher, putting an extra load of laundry in the wash, rejecting Dave's offers of help. This is something he'll be yelled at about later. It's nothing new.

He's counting down the minutes until she leaves and you can come over. He texts you some ideas of movies to watch with the kids, maybe more Disney classics, or even the older greats like E.T, The Princess Bride, Matilda, or Jumanji.

But when Carol sees him smiling at his phone, a light blush on his face because he's recalling the passionate encounter between you two in the elevator, her face sours.

"I think you need to get help. You have a porn addiction," she frowns at him.

He's too happy to argue back. "Yeah, sure, maybe."

She makes a sound of disgust. "I don't know what a man your age still watches that stuff for."

Again he makes no answer, choosing instead to cold-shoulder her anger, hoping she'll just complain her anger away while he texts you, in between reading work emails. Waiting for a quiet moment in her muttering, he asks, "So, how was work?"

"It was long.. and hard," she says, putting laundry away in the dresser.

Dave's knuckles grow white with holding back from telling her everything he knows she's done. Playing pretend has never been so damn difficult. He swallows the bile that dares to rise in his throat when he thinks how she's played him. "I bet. Sounds rough."

A little sigh from her, and when he glances up he swears he sees a little pink on her cheeks in her reflection in the vanity mirror. "It was pretty rough," she says lightly.

His eyes narrow and he can practically feel the blood pulsing through his body. How can she be so callous, so uncaring about the risks she's taking? Does she know how she's just stringing him along?

"I can imagine," he replies, voice tight.

Carol must sense his sarcasm, because she turns in her seat to glare at him. "You don't know what it's like for me. The long hours, the responsibility, the lives I hold in the palm of my hand."

He nearly snorts in laughter. "No, you're right, Carol. I don't know what any of that is like. All I do is go to the office and joke around with the guys, fuck the paralegals, and come home to a cold bed, spend my money on webcam girls, then go to sleep, only to start it all over in the morning. With you as the occasional guest star," he rants.

"You're outrageous," she mutters, slicking on some lip balm. "I don't have time for this. I'm going out."

To see Joel Dave finishes her sentence, hands fisted at his side as he tries to control his breathing. Only his wife can make him so hotheaded, so willing to damn everything to hell over a snide comment.

"You don't have time for what?" he repeats. "To talk to me?"

"What's there to talk about? We stopped talking and fucking a long time ago." She's in the closet putting on a silk blouse and looking for shoes to go with it.

"You always use work as an excuse. You do it deliberately to avoid being here at all!"

"I had a life before I met you! Excuse me for trying to find a little fulfillment apart from you and the girls. You don't define me!"

That comment stings. Dave hasn't realized until now how big a part of his life Carol's been, and how much of his youth he spent building a life she would love. Now here she is dumping all over it.

"I never wanted to define you. I just wanted to make you happy," he says quietly.

His sincerity does nothing for her. "Do you want a fucking parade?"

"You know what? A parade would be great because at least I'd be getting some attention. I-"

He's cut off as Carol grabs him and kisses him. Taken off guard, Dave freezes, his body unable to react to her lips on his. Finally he puts his hands on her shoulders and gently pushes her away, breaking the contact and stepping back. "What are you doing?"

"Don't you want to?" she asks, looking almost hurt. She comes close again and presses the flat of her palm against his crotch then takes it away as if she's burned herself. "You're not even hard."

The blood rushes back to his cock as he recalls the way your lips wrapped around him, tongue laving him as your beautiful eyes gazed up so innocently. Of course he's not hard when you drained every drop of him earlier.

"Of course I'm not," he says, turning away so she can't see the longing in his eyes, the obvious bulge when he does start to get hard again thinking about you in that elevator. "Do you expect me to be in the mood when we're arguing?"

"You used to tear my clothes off after every argument. Or have you forgotten?"

He remembers well the passion of their youth. Carol had always been feisty and tempestuous and that excited him before. Their arguments, no matter the subject, typically led to a passionate embrace. And now.. perhaps time has reshaped them.

"Will you at least lay down with me?" Carol's request comes as a surprise, given how demure she sounds. He looks at her, resting on her side of the bed, and he almost feels guilty for his earlier transgression with you. But he knows Carol has done worse, and likely has been for a long time.

But he's been with her this long out of habit, or maybe it's because she knows how to play him, and only recently stopped the game, tossing her cards aside and abandoning the rules when that stupid plumber came around.

What Dave can't resist is a little peace around the house, an interim white flag. And that particular white flag is in the form of laying next to his wife, watching her fall asleep as her eyes flutter shut.

You return to Dave's house, still under the impression that you're going to hang out, maybe make some dinner with the kids while Carol's gone. There are two cars in the driveway this time, and as you make your way to the door you wonder how to introduce yourself if Carol's actually here.

The girls let you in, hugging your legs as you come inside. Heart brimming over, you ruffle their hair, placing soft kisses on the tops of their heads.

"Mommy and Daddy are asleep," they tell you, bringing you to the half-open door of the master bedroom.

You're unprepared for the stab of jealousy as you see husband and wife resting peacefully, holding hands in their slumber.

Has he forgiven her? Has she somehow wormed her way back into his heart? Maybe he's loved her all this time and is willing to overlook her discretions, just as you secretly forgave Javier's for so many years. Maybe neither of you have any backbone when it comes to letting people walk all over you. Maybe it's a secret kink.

You can only control your own choices, and as soon as you sit alone in your car, you let the silence engulf you before you pull up the application for the culinary program in Paris, quickly entering your info before applying, sealing your fate.

Dave wakes before Carol, rubbing his eyes and stretching. It's nearly ten p.m. and he checks his phone, jolting up when he realizes he never texted you not to come over. The fight with Carol and the tenuous white flag raised between them had come so suddenly that he'd not given thought to the night in he promised you.

He gets out of bed, careful not to wake his wife. As soon as he leaves the room the girls are on him, telling him you came by but had already left. Dave quickly shuts the door as quietly as he can, to stop Carol from hearing them. He takes them out of the hallway and questions them.

"She told us not to wake you up," Molly says.

"Did she say anything else?" Dave's heart is in his throat.

"She told us to be good and that you and Mommy love us," Alice answers. "Can she come over every day?"

"She was crying," Molly added.

That's a twist of the knife already in his heart. He imagines how it must have been for you, walking in and seeing him with his wife, probably assuming the worst.

"Did she say where she was going?" he asks.

"No," they answer, already bored with the questions. "Can we go spend the night at Michelle's?"

"No, honey, it's very late," he says, heart skipping a beat when his phone buzzes with an incoming call.

Tim.

With an ache in his gut, throat constricted, he answered, somehow able to speak. "This is David," he answers, quickly moving out onto the patio to take the call.

"Mr. York, this is Rockford. Do you have time to come in tomorrow so I can discuss my findings." The PI is pretty blunt, just what Dave needs to get out of the cloud of confusion he's in.

"Tomorrow? Can't you just tell me now?" The thought of having to wait another twelve hours is excruciating.

"That's not the way I like to do things, Mr. York. But if this is an ASAP kind of thing you can drop by my office." He gives the address which Dave quickly makes a mental note of.

Of course Carol makes a face when he tells her he has to go into work. A necessary lie, but he takes note of how much she seems to dislike having to stay home. He wonders if she misses Joel, if she even loves him. That's a thought he tries not to entertain for too long or it'll drive him crazy.

The PI's office is in a small room overhead a Korean grocery shop downtown. As Dave traverses the the entrance via the back alley and up a couple flights of stairs, he gets the notion that he's in a 1930s film noir, complete with dingy hallway with wooden paneling, and a door advertising Tim's services as a PI, the signage somewhat faded on the frosted glass. Dave expects the surly former cop to show up in a trenchcoat and a Trilby, but the man appears in the doorway, a loosened tie and white shirt, gray slacks. Tim looks ready to call it a day.

He offers Dave a drink, to which Dave firstly declines, then decides better of it. If he's offering alcohol, it's probably bad news. He thanks Tim for the proffered bourbon and fortifies himself with a sip as they get situated at Tim's desk.

"As you well know, you've paid me to keep tabs on your wife, one Carol Marie York, forty-four years of age, and have surveiled her comings and goings these past few weeks. This is what I've found."

He pulls out a manila folder from an accordion file index and presents it to Dave. "About eighty percent of the time she's not actually at work, as she gives you reason to believe. The other twenty percent she's definitely at the hospital, keeping herself shut away in her office. No visitors during those times."

There's a sinking feeling in Dave's stomach and he feels all the blood rush from head. He doesn't touch the folder, as if it'll burn him. "And the 'eighty percent' as you say? What's she actually doing? Seeing this.. Joel idiot?"

"I've identified her companion as one Joel Richard Miller, fifty years of age, a plumber with a company that services Mercy Memorial, the hospital where Carol works."

Dave leans back in his chair, his grip on his glass of bourbon growing tighter. "That must be how they met.."

"They are not seen together at the hospital," Tim continues. "Their typical MO is to meet at the Starlight Motel, less than an hour from here." He takes the folder and leafs through the info. There are photos of Carol and Joel meeting up in separate cars, going into the same room, smiling, kissing, holding each other while they think they're not being watched.

"I have photos and audio, if you want further evidence."

"Audio??"

Tim shrugs. "Just between us, I have a friend on the force who lends me better equipment for high profile cases such as yours. It's not always easy to get pictures through the windows."

"What.. what's on the audio?" Dave asks, almost timidly. He knows the ascertainment of such evidence by such means is toggling some very blurry lines of legality, but for once in his life he's not going to play by the rules. Forty five years of being good has earned him some legroom to forgo his typically heroic beliefs.

Another sigh from Tim. "You can listen for yourself, or I can tell you: they're definitely fucking."

"Oh, god." Dave puts his glass down on the desk and holds his head in his hands. Tim, used to such reactions, goes around his desk and gives his client a strong pat on the back.

"I'm never happy to pass on news like this," he comforts Dave. "But you have a right to know. You're not the first man whose wife stepped out on him. What you do with this information is completely up to you." He passes the brokenhearted man a box of tissues, letting him have his moment.

"Tell me more about this Joel guy." Dave's voice is strained.

"He's single, lives alone on the east side of town. Worked in the home services industry for almost thirty years. He's big. Strong. I'd say ex-football player."

Of course. Joel was the opposite of Dave, in almost every way. Maybe that's the kind of man Carol needs. Or maybe she's just slumming. Now faced with more questions than answers, Dave slams back the rest of his bourbon, all his senses buzzing.

"I don't usually do this," he says, coming back around his desk to face his client head on. "But you seem like a good guy. If you want, we can catch them in the act."

"How?"

Tim relays the evidence, the patterns of their meeting nights and times, the place already established. Dave doesn't know how he'd not been able to see the signs right in front of him. The late nights all matched up at the same hours, on the same nights, with rare exceptions.

"If all goes according to plan, they'll meet up tomorrow night at the motel. You can be there to catch them in the act, and I'll be there to make sure nothing happens that shouldn't."

It doesn't take a lawyer's imagination to think of every possible result from him catching Carol and Joel red-handed. It would be satisfying, despite the evidence Tim has gathered. He needs to confront them in person, demand answers. Maybe Joel doesn't even know Carol's married. Worse, maybe he knows and just doesn't care.

"Let's do it," Dave agrees.

After leaving Dave's, you drove straight to work, throwing yourself into doing some work after hours, handling the invoices and filling out supply orders ahead of schedule. Anything to keep you from thinking about what you saw. Soon you found your office too confining, and started moving packages to the front, refilling display cases and restocking shelves, making room for new books. Anything to keep you distracted.

A knock at the glass door snaps you from your spell and you see Dave, peering in, waving to you. With a knot in your gut you go and open the door.

"Hey," you say quietly once he's inside.

"Hey," he says back, stuffing his hands in his pocket, unsure what to do with them.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you.. to talk. I went by your place but your sister said you were here."

"She wanted to get away from my parents for a bit, and keep Maple company."

"Good.. that's good." Dave nods.

"You could have called. You didn't need to come over."

"I wanted to see you." A ghost of a smile passes his lips, warming you a little.

"I saw you with Carol," you mutter. "In your bed.. it looked like you'd forgiven her."

A shard of guilt pierces him. "I know.. the girls told me. I am so sorry, baby." He makes a move to reach out for you but pauses. "Please.. look at me."

You reluctantly bring your eyes to his, brimming over with tears. He takes your hand, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb. "I promise you, it wasn't what it looked like." He could kick himself for saying such a cliche thing. You've probably heard it over and over from Javier.

"Do you still love her?"

The question hits him like a kick in the stomach, and his immediate instinct is to say no, that he doesn't love Carol at all, and he wouldn't be going through all this if he did. But that's far too black and white, too easy of an explanation. And he doesn't want to lie to you.

"It's complicated," he mumbles.

You don't say anything for a long while, leaving him tense and worried.

"She's the mother of my children, and the first woman I was ever serious about. We fought last night," he continued, "and then I guess we just had no more fight left in us." He sighs. "I just came back from Rockford's office. She's having an affair with that plumber."

"I'm sorry," you tell him. "I'll send some condolence cookies to your office." You turn to go, torn between wanting to comfort him and needing to turn him away.

It's too tempting right now to start an argument, all your pent up passion needing to be externalized. "My own divorce wasn't nearly as messy as this situation is. I don't love my ex-husband. There's nothing complicated about it."

"Will you listen to me?" he goes after you, grabbing your hand and turning you to face him. "Yes, it's complicated with Carol. It always has been. The only uncomplicated part about my life is you!"

Now the tears fall freely. "Dave, I can't risk my heart getting involved any further. I have to protect it." You wipe your face with the heel of your hand, makeup smudged but you could care less. "You deserve more than being a cuckold. I would never do to you what she did. If I had you in my bed every night I'd have no need of satisfaction elsewhere."

That thought sets him ablaze, the memory of you on your knees in that cramped elevator, your tight wet mouth wrapped around him.. he could have that every night if he could leave Carol so easily.

"I know you wouldn't.. because you actually care about me."

"No, Dave. I fucking love you." Realizing what you just said is a jolt to your system, but you continue. "Please don't choose the woman who betrayed you over the woman who's madly in love with you."

He takes a breath and cups your cheek, gazing into your eyes as he speaks. There's a vulnerability in his voice. "Do you really mean that?"

Your feelings are laid bare, your heart open to him and there's nothing more frightening or more exhilarating. "Dave, I shouldn't have said-"

He shakes his head, silencing you with a firm but gentle touch. "Please, just let me say this. The fact is, I'd choose you. If if came down to it and I had to choose, there would be no contest. I'd choose you. Every damn time."

Your lips meet his in a crashing kiss, alighting both of you with need. Hands on your hips he presses you to the nearest flat surface, a large wooden bookshelf. Dave's kisses travel down your jaw, your neck, and he rips open the top buttons of your dress to get to the swell of your pretty breasts, pressing messy kisses and love bites on your supple skin.

"I need you," you moan, "right now." Your desire is growing out of control.

"God.. I need you too," he says breathlessly. He unbuttons his jeans, quickly pulling down what he needs to, while you hurriedly remove your panties. He grabs your thigh, hooks your leg around him as he presses the tip of him to your dewy folds, teasing you until you're squirming with need.

"This okay?" His breath is hot against your ear. "I don't have a condom. I can pull out.."

You shake your head. Even if you weren't on birth control you'd want to feel him in every way, want that glorious pump of his seed filling you. "It's okay, I'm good, I want it."

He eagerly lines himself up. "You're dripping already.. fuck, I don't think I can hold back.." He slides into you, slowly, savoring this moment he knows he'll look back on for years to come. "I love you," he moans, unable to help the last snap of his hips that delivers his full length into you. He's surrounded by you, warm and tight and oh so wet. "I wanted to be inside you when I said that," he confesses, thrusting home again, filling you deeply.

"Dave," you moan, looping your arms around his neck as he thrusts at a languid pace, shivering from keeping himself at bay. He's a stretch to fit, but he keeps his thumb on your clit, working in small circles as he fills you.

"Please, fuck me," you beg, nails digging into the nape of his neck as you break from a sloppy, delicious kiss. "We waited too long for this.. fuck me now and make love to me later."

He shakes his head, the pleasure already creeping up into his balls. "Gonna come if I don't stop now." He picks you up and carries you to the nearest sofa, both of you giggling as he tries to walk with his pants down around his ankles.

He places you on the sofa, legs spread apart for him as he settles himself beneath you, raising the hem of your dress over your hips. Hooking your legs under his arms he brings you to the edge of the cushion and places small, teasing kisses along the insides of your thighs, groaning as you run your fingers through his hair.

Dave looks at you like you're a miracle, breath warm on your soft skin, tongue dipping out to taste you. He'd had a taste earlier when he licked your cream off his fingers, but there's nothing like drinking from the source. "I love you," he rasps, saying it after planting each kiss upon your thigh, until he reaches his destination, blowing soft cool air on your clit.

"Dave," you groan again, hips eager for him to press forward.

"Payback," he reminds you how you teased him in the elevator almost twelve hours before.

"Mmm.. punish me as you see fit.."

He takes his time once he's there, languidly licking a stripe up your center, delighting in your sweet little moan as his tongue swipes over your clit. His tongue delves into your folds as if to memorize your shape and your taste. You sigh when he pays attention to one side, and your entire body tenses when he laps along the other. When he fucks you with his tongue the handsome curve of his nose rubs against your clit until you're a shivering mess beneath him, your essence all over his face.

Waiting until you're just on the edge, he pulls back, using his fingers just as before, knowing what it will take to get you to come all over his hand. He pulls the most beautiful moans from you, such symphonic sighs as you scream his name. And the cherry on top is when he purses his lips around your taut little clit and sucks as his fingers curl inside you, making you moan louder than he's ever heard anyone as you coat his face with your juices.

He's inside you again, your warmth clasping around him as if he belongs there, in your perfect pussy, buried deeply as he pistons his hips against yours, the culmination of every fantasy he's ever stored up about you now becoming real as you buck your hips up beneath him, demanding all of him, taking every inch because you're made just for him.

True to his word, he fucks you, makes you his in every way. There's nothing so perfect as the feeling of you coming on his cock, squeezing him and urging on his own climax. Once again ensuring that you want him to, he comes hard, painting your sweet cunt with his spend until it's spilling out of you while he's still inside. There's no doubt when you're screaming his name and it's ringing throughout the empty bookstore, you belong to each other and always have.

"Are you okay?" he asks sometime later when you've both caught your breath, holding onto each other for dear life.

"I'm wonderful," you answer, body still thrumming with pleasure, a lightness in your heart that nothing else has ever produced.

dividers by @strangergraphics 👑

taglist: @penascigarette @joelalorian @la-vie-est-une-fleur29

@darkheartgatita @speaktothehandpeasants @rav3n-pascal22

@vickie5446 @mrs-pedro-pascal @zascal @sunnytuliptime

@mysticsuitcasealmondwombat @joelmillerisapunk @almostfoxglove

@itwasntimethatdidit40 @604to647 @milla-frenchy

@everybodylovedcontractors @misstokyo7love @ppascalq

(sorry it's a little later than I promised!)

#pedro pascal #dave york fic #dave york smut #dave york x reader #dave york x you #coffee shop au #dave york fanfiction #dave york series #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal cinematic universe #ppcu #ppcu fanfiction #ppcu fandom #tim rockford #private investigator!tim rockford

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chirrups · 7 months ago

Note

omg!!! Dog au

I always head canoned jimmy to be a golden retriever and joel to be a tiny feral dogo

but they are clearly not here and I wonder what breed you drew them as and why you choose them to be that in the au

golden retriever was actually one of the breeds that i was considering in the brainstorming stages (along with some terrier breeds) but i eventually settled on the good old beagle for jimmy.

to me personally, beagle fits because they and their hound cousins are just a little more plucky and scrappy than "himbo-soft" golden retrievers are stereotyped as. jimmy is brash and foolhearted to an hilarious degree so i wanted to give him a more "goofy but still a hunting dog" feeling if that makes any sense at all.

also beagles are known for baying and i think it could function as a fun parallel symbol to the canary stuff he has going on.

and lastly, scott is a sheltie (and martyn and tango are medium-small sized breeds as well), so i wanted jimmy to fit in those size ranges and dynamics. he also just doesn't read big or small dog to me so medium size he is!

and good ole joel is a jack russel because that breed is terror on tiny legs. joel has a truly potent amount of small dog energy with the ferocity and gaul to back it up, so he gets the jack russ because those guys are as if a rabid animal and also 200 live grenades was packed into 10-pounds worth of dog.

it was a debate on whether to give grian, bdubs, or joel the jack russel terrier as they are all (just a little) napoleon-complex personalities to me but jack russel fit joel best design-wise and i ended up finding breeds that work with the other two better

#bird art #squawk talk #jimmy solidarity #joel smallishbeans #flower husbands #traffic smp au #also fun note i am not majorly altering breed standard colors for this au because i am simply going mad #the breed having a naturally occurring coat color and pattern that matches the lifers design is also a factor when i was assigning dogs #that being said i will be disregarding this slightly for skizz and cleo because i am too married to their breeds to change em #the dog tag

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thejakeformerlyknownasprince · 4 hours ago

Note

thinking of these edits to the ebooks and whatnot makes me think of the animorphs in-universe like marco editing THEIR biographies bc of a stray detail they didn't mean to include... now the real fans OBSESS over what they Really meant and the different editions are super valuable lol.

Marco's copy editor: Yeah, so for the second edition, I got rid of the extra "b" in the scene where you fly around in eagle morph, fixed the place where spellcheck autocorrected Jake's name as Jade, and made sure the right quote marks were around Tobias's line on p. 821. Couple minor tweaks, no biggie.

Marco: Great eye for detail! Thanks man.

— on YouTube, 6 weeks later —

Some Rando: Not only has Marco refused to respond to our questions about his flying beagle morph, but now he has gone through and purged all mentions of flying beagles from the newest edition of his book! But we were too smart for him, weren't we? I still have the first edition, I have PROOF the flying beagles exist!

Some Rando: Now, returning to our efforts to explain how Tobias is able to speak aloud while in hawk morph, I've analyzed over 50 hours of footage of parrots imitating human speech and reached the following conclusions...

— on Change.Org, 10 weeks later —

Petition: JUSTICE FOR JADE! Marco's silence on the seventh Animorph must end! Who was she, and why has she gone unacknowledged? Efforts to uncover a Jade of the right age living in California during the war have turned up a Jayden Price, who AUTHORITIES CLAIM is living a normal life as an accountant in Peoria, but we have proof and we will not back down.

#animorphs #animorphs crack #animorphs retcons

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that-damn-fouth-chaosemerald · 1 year ago

Text

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐖𝐇 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐲 "𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐲" 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦?

See my other Welcome Home work here!

×A/N×

Hey!! Yes, I know, I have some few inbox that I should answer, and don't worry, I will, just let me do a quick post here- -w-

So I'm back with the promised WH headcanons! And I hope you will like them :D

(And yes, it has a short plot now. I did it. I wrote it. ✨

×❢ About my work ❢×

Fluff fluff, all is fluff! No pronouns used for the reader, but good boy/girl mentioned, even if it's expected, there's no smut. Although Howdy is a bit teasing, but it's not r rated so •-•

Fandom: Welcome Home horror project by Clown

Character(s): Wally Darling, Howdy Pillar, Barnaby B. Beagle, Frank Frankly, Eddie Dear, The Reader|You| (Y/N) |Neighbour

Ship(s): The Characters / The Reader|You| (Y/N) |Neighbour

Form: Headcanons

𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈: LoveGame by Lady Gaga

('cause that is next on my playlist •_•)

“Let's play a lovegame, play a lovegame

Do you want love or do you want fame?

Are you in the game?”

(All illustration belongs to Clown!)

Wally Darling

It was quiet in his house, even Home didn't let out a single crack until this moment. There was just one problem. You haven't seen your dearest puppet oh so long ago. The plan was that you two will have a cuddle time together, but he was nowhere.

You got up from the couch and carefully looked around in the house. You cautiously called out his name, but no one responded.

You walked around in the house a little bit, hoping to find him.

He had his own painting room where he could make his own fantasy alive with the brush.

You walked closer carefully, not to scare him. Even so, he could actually clearly hear you sneaking up behind him, but he was more focused on the picture.

You peaked through his shoulders to see what he was up to.

Oh. My. Gosh. Your heart skipped a beat. He was painting a picture of you. How cute! Wally was a very talented artist and you were very amazed in this moment. He always did such a great job.

"This looks so great, Wally! You are such a good boy!" you said quietly, while you gently placed your head on his shoulder.

• it comes off to him like compliment

• and it's from you

• his sweetest neighbour

• of course, he is happy! ♡

• "Thank you, Neighbour!"

• he smiles at you happily, hoping that you like his work

• "Do you like it, Neighbour?"

• omg ofc you like it! How could you not?!

• He is so happy about the compliment and about that you're liking his work.

• he just stares at you happily with open mouth, listening your cheerful voice while you commenting of him and his art

Eddie Dear

Eddie came home and you could tell, he was clearly exhausted. Poor boy, running back and forth all day, and do this job all alone, it must be tiring.

He got down next to you, just quietly lied down on his back and put his head on your lap.

"Hey." you said softly, curling his hair gently with your fingers.

"Hey, love!" he looked at you with his tired eyes, but his lips still curled up into a kind smile.

You were resting quietly in the warm room, just hearing each other's calm breathing was enough relaxing.

"It must be hard for you to do this job all alone, Eddie." you said quietly, no to destroy this calm moment that you have been in for awhile. "You're such a good boy!" you chuckled.

• he slowly opens his eyes, looks straight up at you

• look, idk if they can blush, but now he does it okay?

• like his face is completely red

• he always gets so flushed when you complimenting him

• he's so flattered

• and so damn cute ♡

• he's speechless, he can't think of what he could say

• so he just simply says

• "Oh... Erm... Thanks, (Y/N)!"

• he will definitely give a kiss to your hands in return

• Your compliments mean too much for him ♡

(a.n: btw I love Edddie, he is such a sweetheart 🥺 ♡

He is definitely my favourite character beside Barnaby! ★)

Barnaby. B. Beagle

He knew that work is tiring for you and you had a long day. He wanted to do something pleasant for you. He couldn't cook, it was too difficult for him and he didn't wanna blow up the kitchen with his tryings. So instead of cooking, he cleaned out. It was not as perfect like you would did it, but it was acceptable. He was already finished when you were standing in front of the red and blue colored door. It was easy to recognize it. It had similar colors as Barnaby and it was the biggest door in the neighbourhood.

He opened the door with a happiest smile on his face. He was clearly missing you. He let you in and you immediately took a seat on the comfy couch.

Just a few minutes after you had some chance to look around. The house wasn't perfectly clean, like you could still something in the conner, but it was enough to make you feel happy and greatful about Barnaby.

"What a good boy!"

• omg i can imagine how his tail starts wagging

• I mean he's like a dog, but different, but still a dog, so what did you expect?

• he definitely loves it when you call him a good boy

• he just listens your soft and lovely voice while you caressing and rubbing his fluffy head

• he especially likes rubs behind his big ears

• will rest his head on your lap and just melt in and let you to pet and praise him

• probably will bite you carefully in an affection way

• or slobber on you occasionally

• he wants you to say it more times, so he'll try to make you proud as often as he can

• he absolutely loves it ♡

"Thank you, Barnaby!"

Frank Frankly

You wanted to see your partner's reaction too much to lose this idea. You leaned forward in the chair to get a better look at Frank, then you called him.

"You are such a good boy, Frank!"

• he looks up at you strangely and confused

• you can't help, but giggle a little bit cause the frustration

• "Well... Thank you, (Y/N)..."

• then he goes back to his job

• probably he has to do something with those colorful bugs what are around him

• seems like he found a better company than you :")

• you stood up and got over to him, tried not to hurt his garden and the bugs

• "But seriously, hon, I do think that you're doing an amazing job!" you said it softly as you hugged him from behind.

"Thank you, Darling." he smiles at you adorably

• he still adores you dw ♡

• but he definitely likes dear, hon, love or even darling more :D

• (btw I think it would make him uncomfortable- not sure, but I feel like- lol)

Howdy Pillar

You rested your arm on the counter as Howdy checked your items. You watched his movements. Slowly tracing your eyes from his face down to his hands, paying attention to details as well.

"Y'know, you do so much work in this place, Howdy. Like a good boy." You added jokingly the last sentence, didn't think of it too much, though.

He stopped moving for and looked up on you. You look directly in his eyes, getting red of embarassment.

"I mean-" You looked away sheepishly. "Not like that, just... You're doing such a good job here, y'know? It must be hard to keep this place alright by yourself." you chuckled awkardly, trying to change the awkard mood that you accidently did.

Howdy was still looking at you, but he didn't seem nervous or weird out about this. He just stared at you and then suddenly his lips curled into a kind, but a teasing smile.

"Yeah, it is." he answered.

He already put in a bag the last item you have bought of him, then he gently gave the bag to you with his third hand.

"You wanna drink a quick Dark Roast with me? Or if you prefer it more, you can have orange juice, or tea." he leaned closer to you on the counter.

"Sure." you said.

He walked away from the counter as one of his hands started to lead you beside him.

He glanced at you with a smile and said

"You still have to pay, though. Don't think that I'll forgot."

• omg-

• i don't think he'll mind it y'know

• but he prefers call you a good pet/boy/girl

• he may get teasy about it

• beside that, he will treat it as a compliment (cause he really deserves it)

• call him often, he won't mind

• just please don't call him like that in public :>

• he's cool with it :D

#wh #welcome home #welcome home puppet show #welcome home arg #welcome home fanart #wally darling #wally darling x reader #barnaby b beagle #barnaby b beagle x reader #eddie dear #eddie dear x reader #frank frankly #frank frankly x reader #howdy pillar #howdy pillar x reader #wh x reader #welcome home x reader

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b4mbiblooms · 2 months ago

Text

Reflections of us…

Warnings: Grammar mistakes. Beginner writer.

Established relationship

𖦹 The sound of the gunfire was scary, but the silence afterward was worse. I tried not to glance at the bloodied body’s on the ground, but my gaze caught on a familiar face that you hadn’t seen in years.

𖦹 “It can’t be…” You muttered under your breath. If it wasn't for the situation you would’ve completely stopped to think if it was really him; but the giant size dolls singing signalling that you had to go. Something in you prayed to whatever divine being that if it was him that please allow him to make it through this death match.

𖦹 You had been in debt for quite a few years especially when your Grandma became sick. You were the last of your inner family. When you were young your mother passed from pneumonia, and after that your dad left you with your grandma. She lived in the southern part of Korea. There you were a bit lonely because you didn’t have any siblings. You always wished you had siblings. Yes you loved your grandma to death but you were always lonely.

𖦹“Y/n! I'm home. I have a surprise for you!” It was a voice you always recognized. “What is it grandma?” You said with your childish tone. It was a box with some holes. You opened the box and inside was a small dog wagging its tail. The beagle his copper and white fur glowing in the light, velvety ears swinging with each step. His twitching nose searched the air while his tail wagged with uncontainable joy. You named him Copper.

𖦹 When you were ten your Grandmother started working longer hours at work to keep food on the table. With that you started being babysat by your neighbors eldest daughter.

𖦹 At your first day at the house you wore your favorite outfit it was your favorite color. As your grandma walked you to the house and knocked on the door it was opened by a young girl much taller than you but still young. “Ha-eun! Thank you so much for accepting to babysit her!” Your grandma’s cheerful tone bursted out. “It’s no problem Mrs. l/n! I'm already babysitting my younger brother so it's not big of a deal! NIce meeting you Y/n!” She said as she smiled down at you. You nodded. “Thank you again but I guess it’s time for me to go. You guys have fun!” Your grandmother said.

𖦹 As you walked into the house you saw a young boy sitting on the couch. “Dae-ho, come introduce yourself this is Y/n!” She said looking at her younger brother. He raced up off the couch toward you and his sister. He was about the same size as you, maybe a bit shorter but by a centimeter. He had short dark hair and a youthful face. “My name is Kang Dae-ho; "Dae means"big ","Ho " means tiger! I love your outfit, it is my favorite color!” He said with a smile on his face. “Thank you Dae-ho! This is also my favorite color!” You said as you giggled. “We will be great friends then!” He said with a cheery tone, and indeed good friends you too became.

𖦹 After that day you became an inseparable pair. You felt less lonely throughout the days. At their house you both learned how to play Gonggi and soon enough you both became really good at it! Some days you brought Copper to the house. You and Dae-ho would run around with Copper until you were tired. Soon you found out that you had been going to the same school so you began to walk to and from school. Every morning he would wait outside your house for you to go to school together.

𖦹 In a few years you began to develop a sort of crush on Dae-ho. It wasn’t anything big but was a miniature attraction. You liked how he paid attention to you; he'd notice the smallest things about you, things you didn’t even know. It also felt as if you could never feel down around him; he always lit up the room and could make anyone smile.

𖦹 One day while you too were in the backyard laying on the grass looking up out the sky. Out of the blue he asked you a question… “What do you want to do in life N/n?” He asked. “I never really thought of that honestly but what I think I want to do is take care of my Grandma. Maybe see my dad. Get a good job, get married maybe. What about you?” You said. “I would love to have a life with you n/n. I mean of course if you want to though!” He said with a light tint of blush on his face. “You know what I would like that, but as long as we can bring copper!” A smile began to creep up on your face. “Yeah that would be great! So this is a promise, yeah?” He said. “Promise!” You both smile.

𖦹 You two were young but on some level you felt that it was true and you had a future together he wasn’t one to back on his word.

𖦹 As the years began to pass you grew more and more distant. Especially with your grandmother falling ill, the treatments were expensive. You had to work more and more to be able to afford her treatments, and on top of that pay bills. You had slowly fallen into debt. Which also led you to joining the games.

𖦹 Soon enough you were pulled back into reality the voting had begun. They were now in the 300's. You'll be soon. “389 please cast your vote… 388 please cast your vote…” The monotone voice said. There they were. It was really Kang Dae-ho! He even looked the same, just a bit mature. For just a brief moment your eyes locked on each other. In that moment it felt as if you were taking in each other's features, and in both your hearts it felt as if something both of you had re-ignited.

𖦹 “359 please cast your vote… 356 please cast your vote…” The square guard said. You pressed the X button and the red illuminated your face a few more X’s and you could leave with some of the money and your life. “297 please cast your vote… 290…270..240… 232.” Said the guard. The voting continued. In the end the O’s won. Another game to be played.

𖦹 While walking back to the beds ready for lights out. You felt a familiar warm hand on your shoulder. “Y/n?” A soft voice spoke out. “Dae-ho?” You said as you turned around. “N/n!” He said pulling you into a tight hug. “Dae what are you doing here?” You asked. “I should be asking you that!” He said.

𖦹 “I came here to earn money to pay off some debt. Why are YOU here?” You said. “Same reason as you!” He said. “Wait where have you been all this time? I haven't seen you in forever!” You asked. “I went into the marines.” He said. Trying to bite back your laughter in a failed attempt you had to just let it out! Him the Kang Dae-ho joined the marines? This was comical! “Hey! What’s funny?” He asked with a little pout on his face. “You joined the marines!? Really? I'm sorry I just can’t see you doing that!” You said trying to calm down. “Okay you’re right my dad made me join he said it would be good for me. I should ask you the same thing I haven’t seen you in forever!” He said. Your face darkens. “My grandmother fell ill and you know… I had to work a lot, you know her treatment and bills. You know I fell into some debt so that's why I'm here and why I have been absent…” He saw you got a bit sad talking about your grandmother, trying to change the topic of that subject.

𖦹 “You know, you still look the same!” He wasn’t lying, you looked the same, just more mature and you were drop dead gorgeous. Would he say it to your face? Nope, but in his heart he knew you were stunning. He felt that old flame of that love he had for you reigniting. “You look the same also you know nothing much has changed even in your personality.” You said. He did look the same but he matured really well and grew into a handsome young man.

𖦹 After a bit of catching up. You met other people, nice people. It was always interesting how fast he could make friends. At times you wished that you could make friends as fast as he could. You found out that the man had played the games before and that the next game would be dalgonna, and that we should all choose triangles. Should be easy enough and we could all make it out alive, but something inside you told you that it wouldn’t be that easy.

𖦹 Before you knew it lights came and it was time for bed. “Good night n/n.” He said in a bit of a drowsy state returning to his section. “Good night Dae.”

𖦹 As quick as you went to sleep the lights came on. It was time for the next game. Surprisingly before the next game they gave you a quick meal.

𖦹 “Good morning Dae.” You said. “Good morning N/n.” He said walking toward you. “How’d you sleep?” He asked you. “I slept alright, not the best but good enough, you go first.” He told you. “Oh, really thank you!” You said as you two got in line.

𖦹 After getting your meals you were walking back with your group you started scanning your meal. It was an alright meal enough to get you through the next day.

𖦹 “Do you want your milk? I know, you don't really like it. ” He asked, sitting down. As a kid you never really liked milk. You never knew why you just didn’t like it; maybe it was the taste, color or maybe the smell. You were surprised he even remembered that. “Sure you can have it.” You said

𖦹 After eating the okay meal it was time for the next game. You walked to the next game with Dae-ho. With Dae-ho the games were not that bad, it was better than being alone in the games. These were deadly games but at least you had someone with you “Hey make sure you stay with me, alright?” He said. As you walked into the next game the robotic voice came on the intercom. “Please get into groups of 5 for the next round.” What? I thought this was supposed to be Dalgona. Is it played in groups? “Hey didn’t Gi-hun say the next round was Dalgona?” You questioned. “Maybe it changed.” He said. “I repeat please get into a group of 5 for the next round.” The female robotic voice.

𖦹 “Well since we already have 5 this we already have a group!” Jun-bae said. It’s nice that I met these people. If it wasn’t for Dae-ho you probably wouldn’t have a group.

𖦹 Then a female came around. “Could I join your group..?” She asked. “We kinda already have a group-” Gi-hun said. “I-I’m pregnant…” She said as she put her hand on her stomach. Your eyes softened at her. She carries life but she is trapped in these games. “Have my spot. I’ll find another group.” You spoke up. Dae-ho looked like he was going to protest but you squeezed his hand for reassurance that you will be alright. “Uh, thank you…” She said, “No problem, please be careful.” You smiled at her.

𖦹 The games that you was playing was six legs. You will play 5 games. First Ddakji, second flying stones, third, gon-gi, fourth spinning tops, and last jegi. With your group you chose Gon-gi, you’ve always been good at Gon-gi. You were good but not as good as him. Ever since Dae-ho’s sister taught you how to play.

𖦹 On Dae-ho’s side he chose gon-gi. In his heart he prayed to whatever divine power that your team got through. He knew that you would most likely choose gon-gi. You were always good at gon-gi ever since you two were young.

𖦹After your team went you came back to the warehouse looking rest area. You waited for him. You prayed that he made it through the game, you wanted his team to make it also back. You just couldn’t mess with the idea of losing him. Then you could hear the groans of the others because another group came in so; less blood money. Prayed that the group was Dae-ho’s.

𖦹 You turned around and it was Dae-ho. They made it! Once they came back. We had another vote. You really thought that we would make it out with this one. The O’s win another game to play unfortunately.

𖦹 While sitting, Gi-hun began talking about sleep it wouldn’t be long before lights out. He said that the other may try to attack so we would have to take turns taking shifts watching. Gi-hun offered to take the first shift, Jun-bae took second, you took third, Dae-ho took 4th, and so on and so forth. Before you knew it it was lights out.

𖦹 During lights out you couldn’t really sleep your mind just kept racing you couldn’t rest at all. You couldn’t sleep, it was like your mind was running in and out of circles. It was almost your shift anyway so you should just let Jun-bae rest since you wouldn’t go back to sleep anyway.

𖦹 “Jun-bae.” You said going to pat him on his shoulder. He jumped a bit most likely because of the tired state he was in. “Oh! Y/n you should be asleep my shift isn’t over yet…” He said through a yawn. “I can take it for you, don't worry I can’t really sleep so I can just take it from here.” You sat down next to him. “Are you sure it’s alright?” He asked. “I'm positive, go get your rest.” You said looking up at the piggy bank as you spoke. “Alright then, Goodnight Y/n.” He said. “Goodnight.” You said blankly.

𖦹 You were lost in your thoughts thinking about your grandma how she is feeling what is she doing. Also what's your future going to look like after the game if you even make it to see the end, what are you going to do? Pay off debt, of course, but what else? Your mind flashed to a memory Dae-ho. You always had a little thing for him but you always thought of it as just a childhood thing, but as you grew apart you always wished you were together. In your restless mind you always managed to think about him.

𖦹 “N/n?” Hearing the familiar voice you were pulled out of your thoughts and back into the real world. “Yeah?” You asked. He began getting up from his area walking toward you. It was cute seeing him in his state of drowsiness. His hair was slightly frizzled and cheeks a light shade of pink. “It’s my shift now…” He said yawning, taking a seat next to you. “Well i'm not very tired so you can go back to sleep if you want I can cover for you.” You said. “You should seriously get some rest, it is not good to stay up.” He said with genuine care. “I’m alright I will just sit here with you if it’s alright.”

𖦹 You two sat in a comfortable silence with him. He was one who can talk for a while but when he realized that the other party didn’t want to really talk he understood not to talk much. He was always good at reading other people.

𖦹The room was steeped in shadows. Most of the others were slumped on their bunks, lost in restless sleep or too exhausted to stay on guard. You and Dae-ho sat near the wall, keeping watch. The quiet stretched between you, but it was a familiar kind of silence, one that didn’t demand filling. It reminded you of the old days, back when the two of you would sit out on the playground until his sister told you both to come back, talking about everything and nothing. Back when life wasn’t… this.

𖦹“What’s the first thing you’ll do when we get out of here?” you asked, your voice soft but steady. He glanced over at you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “When, huh? You sound pretty sure about that.”

𖦹“You have to believe it,” you replied, a faint smile of your own. “Otherwise, what’s the point?” He nodded, leaning his head back against the wall. For a moment, he was quiet, his gaze fixed on the distant, dark corners of the room. “Alright,” he said, his voice low but warm. “First thing? I’m going to pay off my debt.”

𖦹“Then,” He said. He turned his head to look at you, his expression a softness that you were familiar with. “We’ll go somewhere nice. A real restaurant. It will be a date!”

𖦹You laughed quietly, a sound that felt foreign in a place like this but natural with him. “You’re already assuming I’d say yes?”

𖦹“Of course,” he said, the confidence in his tone making your chest tighten just a little. “You owe me at least one meal after all the years I put up with you.”

𖦹You nudged his arm lightly. “You’re the one who ate all my snacks back then. I think you owe me.”

𖦹His smile widened, the kind of smile you hadn’t seen from him in years, maybe longer. It softened something in your chest, something you hadn’t realized was still there.

𖦹“Fine,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost tender. “We’ll call it even. But I’m serious. When we get out of here, I want us to start over. None of this drifting apart, none of the… distance. Just you and me, like it used to be. Better, even.”

𖦹You opened your mouth to say something, but the words caught in your throat. There was something so honest in the way he looked at you, so certain, it left you momentarily speechless.

𖦹“What do you think?” he asked, his gaze holding yours in the dim light.

𖦹“I think…” you started, your voice softer than you expected. “I think you’d better mean it.”

“I do,” he said, and there wasn’t a shred of hesitation in his voice. “You’re not getting rid of me this time.”

𖦹You looked away, but a small smile tugged at your lips. The room around you faded for a moment—the danger, the fear, the weight of survival—and all you could feel was the warmth of his words.

𖦹“Alright,” you said, leaning your head back against the wall. “It’s a deal. But you’d better not forget when we’re out of here.”

𖦹“I won’t,” he said, the confidence in his tone grounding you in a way you didn’t realize you needed.

𖦹For the first time in a long time, the dark didn’t feel so suffocating. You looked forward to that moment.

#kang dae ho x reader #kang dae ho #beginner #fanfic #squid game #squid game 2 #my baby boy

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